A few months ago I wrote an article (croatia article) expressing my concerns about the direction of English International football & fears I had going into that game against Croatia. I also mentioned that prior to the defeat by Bilic’s chequered men, I was met by gut-wrenching reservations similar to ones I had experienced in 1994, when England failed to reach USA 94 under Graham Taylor.

I’m a little too young to remember when England last failed to reach the Euro championships (1984 was the last time; degradation a certain Norwegein commentator’s now legendary “Maggie Thatcher..” - seen above - rant won’t let us forget in a hurry!), meaning ‘USA 94′ was the only other time I’ve experienced something similar (me being a patron of such a colossus in the football world!). And what does USA 94 & Euro 2008 have in common? Well for me, they have both proved to be more gratifying tournaments in Ingerland’s absence. And just before nationalists, meatheads & the like, get their St George’s Y-fronts in a twist & disembowel me metaphorically, hear me out:

- I have been able to relax & enjoy football purely for the entertainment value. No emotional attachment, no lofty unrealistic hopes, no sleepless nights, & no agonising defeats at the hands of the Germans via a crushing penalty shoot-out!

- Like USA 94 (though I was 13 back then), I have been able to concentrate on scouting for players in my imaginary world where I’m the manager of the team I support & buy in players to fit the system I have created, annoying the missus by scribbling this team on the back of any scrap of paper I can find around the flat; thus confirming how incredibly childish & idyllic my thoughts still remain after all these years!

- I’ve seen no scenes of English yobs scrapping/rioting either abroad or in our local pubs, therefore saving us all from the shameful, self-defeating violence & yobs tarnishing the flag for the umpteenth time; for a few more years at least.

- And lastly, we can take a long hard look at the direction we are going in & take notes/lessons from the free-flowing, high tempo football we’ve witnessed at this tournament & move with the times. With failure comes lessons that we have to learn, with failure has to come a chemical reaction to improve & make sure we don’t make the same mistakes again. As so often is the case, this can often be the catalyst for success. Capiche? (Oh & PL clubs can buy up all the best players of the tournament which helps!)
 
After USA 94 & in the post-Turnip era, England reacted by importing shed loads of classy foreigners into our domestic league, which strangely corresponded with the birth of the Premiership, which in retrospect rejuvenated English football at that time. We learnt so much from players such as Klinsman, Ravenelli, Gicá Popescu, Di Matteo, Dan Petrescu, Ziege & Branco(Brazilian with thunderbolt left peg who spent a season with Boro- or rather 9 games to be more precise). We then went on to go within a whisker of battering everyone at Euro 96 (who will ever forget that 4-1 victory against the Dutch? Watch below for those who drank too much!) & responsible for reinvigorating a nation seemingly on brink of losing its affection for the game she invented.

All this poppycock about foreigners ruining the English game is a load of pish. Ask McManaman,  ‘Shaggy‘ Anderton & Sheringham if foreign imports harmed their developement. We just use this as an excuse for our failings. Get Silva, Villa, Arshavin, Modric et al into the Premier League & it will invariably improve our countries chances of qualification & ultimately being victorious at World Cup 2010; end of. And the man with the umbrella has to be aiming for this. As my good friend Eric has already brought to the table, we have to emulate the football Hiddink& Holland are producing, move swiftly & adapt. But for now, he’s something to cheer all England fans up (who’s the skinny bloke in the suit with the dodgy tash?):

Life is all about reacting to scenarios & failings. Life is about accommodating a new set of circumstances; adapting once things don’t go as we might’ve planned. And life is about chemistry & reactions.

Allow me to elaborate further…

An old article that my friend Eric Utheim penned earlier this year (Same winner) suggested that winning the Champion’s League has become predictable, & the days of Ajax, Red Star Belgrade, Steaua Bucharest & Nottingham Forest winning Europe’s most prestigious trophy is a thing of the past. I beg to differ.

If all the components/elements are in place & players/managers react in the correct manner, anything is possible. Look at Greece last time around, Turkey’s achievements this time, but more aptly look at Hiddink’s Ruskies. Only one player in Russia’s squad plays outside Russia & despite Zenit St. Petersburg hinting massively at Russia’s potential in last season’s Uefa Cup, no one in the so-called savvy British media identified them as dark horses even, never mind contenders. I know Dunphy, Brady & Giles (RtéTwo) can be v.annoying at times, but even their contentious, never-in-the-wrong drivel is better entertainment than the smug, sit-on-the-fence, dial-a-cliché bores that line-up on the English gravy train! It just goes to show, regardless of the money & popular opinion, that if all the elements are in place; such as the right manager is appointed, who in-turn installs the correct tactics, & with all his players on top of their games & gelling together; then magic can happen.

Hiddink’s success will not only have England selectors kicking themselves, but Chelsea hierarchy also. Honestly, has Big Phil Scolari really done enough to warrant the praise he’s received from the world’s press? I mean, he’s never even managed a European club team & only has club experience in Brazil! His nearly man CV hardly has other PL clubs green with envy. In this environment, he is nothing short of an unknown quantity. He’s not a leader of men. He’s not a revolutionary. He’s not Gus Hiddink.

A few months back, I was over in Liverpool meeting up with friends. As we gathered for afternoon pints in the charming ‘Ye Cracke’ pub off Hope St. something profound dawned on me. The Guinness was flowing & the craic was indeed mighty. And I was surrounded by all of the friends I love, fellas I’d met at different periods of my life, all unique & all equally fantastic in their own delightful way. Each friend’s idiosyncrasies were obvious. Our differences were there for all to see & the group dynamics were as diverse as they could’ve been; yet everyone gelled perfectly, sparks flew & we all got on famously. That stolen afternoon in Liverpool – you know the one lads – for me was what life is all about & why it is such a wonderful gift. And it’s all about the chemistry.

Normally, merely mentioning the word ’science’ has me heading for the nearest exit, yet recently, I’m starting to think that life is made up of little else. Good things usually occur from shit situations. Look at USA in ‘94’, when Leonardo (whom along with Romario, was Brazil’s player of the tournament) was suspended for his infamous elbow on Tab Ramos of the USA (seen above). His replacement; Branco, came in & scored the winner in their ¼ final against a Bergkamp-inspired Holland, winning 3-2. Branco would later go onto score a crucial penalty in the WC Final’s shootout against Italy as Brazil lifted the World trophy for the 1st time in 24 years. Life is made up of decisive decisions at crucial moments & these shape our future. Football is no different. What if Chelsea hadn’t signed ‘la Sulk’ (Anelka)? What if Steven Taylor hadn’t committed that horrendous tackle on Eduardo? Drogba wasn’t sent-off against United? And what if United hadn’t defeated Chelsea in the CL final? (I’m certain Ronaldo would’ve stayed, but now he’s won literally everything there is to win, then I’m now certain he’ll leave – at some point.)

And what if Russia hadn’t lost 4-1 against Spain? Would they be in the semis?

Despite originally rooting for the perennial underachievers - them being the Spanish - to win the Euros, & how I never fail to be impressed by the sheer efficiency of the Germans; I think Russia deserve to win it now, so that we all learn a very valuable lesson. Football is changing & Gus is reminding us all (As Eric so eloquently said so in the previous post!), that anything is possible with skillful, fast & energetic players. And Spain has to be very wary of the wounded tiger or Ruskie as it is in this case.

I’ve just returned from a very enjoyable stay in the metropolis that is London (I’m saving that story for my next post by the way!) & I am starting to realise an important lesson about geting things wrong myself. Things may not always be as they once seemed & hopefully the English coaches involved in the future of our game see things in a similar light. In summery, in England’s absence - like in ‘USA 94 ’ - free from ulterior motives, emotional constraints, vested interests & sure bets (though I did attempt to enter The Metro’s fantasy league that unceremoniously collapsed after game 3!), I have had the opportunity to take an objective look at the great game & International football on the whole. And as an Englishman this is extremely necessary, especially in light of England’s latest failings.

What I’ve been trying to get at is that football, like life, is unpredictable. A series of random events with reactions, which if you get right brings about success. Moreover, great things can be created from adversity, success stories out of general shitness. Take the Irish Literary movement of the early-mid 20th century, the Manchester music phenomenon of the late 80’s & early 90’s, Wayne Rooney, & quite possibly Hiddink’s Russia in 2008.

From where I am standing, there is only one thing worse than mindless football violence & that is complacency. England are not in a position to become complacent, so therefore have the perfect opportunity to learn a valuable lesson from their omission from Euro 2008. As they did in the aftermath of USA 94, like then, England now have an opportunity to react accordingly. Also, like Sheringham, Shearer & Anderton before them, English players can learn a lot from the foreign imports that will inevitably follow these Championships. And this tournament akin to USA 94 can only have a positive effect/reaction on English football.

Untill next time…

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With all the talk of the Lisbon treaty (Ireland voted no by the way!), what a real pleasure it is to be distracted by this fabulous Euro championships. Despite many missing England’s presence (not Jess it seems in previous post or me for that fact), the tournament thus far has been a rip roaring success & an absolute joy to watch. It just shows the greatness of this continent & the talent that is throbbing & ejaculating from within its pastures - Europe holds the key to the future - Europe Forever!!!

My article on Euro 2008 will follow shortly; but in the meantime, let me treat you all to what I feel has been the goal of the championships so far (& yes I am aware his brilliant team goal against Italy has received far higher accolades, but I feel this wins in the pure spectacular stakes!). Without further ado: Wesley Sneider, enjoy…

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These are testing times in football as we approach the business end of the season. With nervy title races, gritty relegation scraps, tempestuous fights for promotion & the Champions League still to be decided, we face an exciting finale to what has already been a memorable season. Despite Liverpool progressing in Europe, thus ending any doubt they are a club in crisis, it was Stoke City’s return to form which I found particularly gratifying. After 2 demoralising defeats, Stoke bounced back with a 1-0 win at Norwich on Tuesday, to move back within a point of the league leaders.

With both Stoke & Liverpool seemingly rejuvenated (their penance surely served?), my confidence has been fully restored & I am hoping 2008 will materialize into the year of the underdog. Hold onto your oatcakes, we’re in for a pulsating end to the season.

Firstly, let us assimilate the events of the last fortnight…

After a sojourn stint as league leaders, Stoke suffered 2 defeats culminating in a crushing loss at QPR. The degradation of this 3-0 thumping had emanated from the disappointment of Preston, with the presence of the Sky cameras rubbing more salt into Potters’ wounds. This maudlin feeling distended until the 91st minute against Burnley when Lenny Lawrence (aka Golden Balls) coolly dispatched that penalty, via keeper & post, to salvage a vital draw for the Potters. Memories of England V Greece came flooding back. Which brings us to the events of last Tuesday when Stoke recaptured their form by grabbing a slender 1-0 win at Norwich. It was a crucial victory & puts Stoke right back in the promotion race.  
 
If Lawrence was an expected hero against Burnley (grabbing his 14th goal of the campaign), Tuesday’s match-winner Mama Sidibe then was possibly the unlikeliest of suspects, after scoring only his 2nd goal of the season. For me though, the real match winner was again Rory Delap, the genuine unsung hero of our incredible season. Again, it was his lethal long-throw which set-up Mama’s goal, whom even with his woeful scoring record would’ve found it difficult to fluff. A friend of mine suggested Sidibe reminded him of John Fashanu (of Gladiator fame). Now I prefer to think of him as a poor man’s Heskey, but it did get me thinking there is a strong resemblance between the spirit of ‘The Crazy Gang’ & that of this mighty Stoke team. I’m not getting at Sidibe mind; He does give this team something with his admirable work-rate & attitude, especially away from home. Nonetheless, Sidibe is to ‘Premier League Striker’ what Lilly Allen is to ‘Ghetto Princess’. 

Now, we are having a wonderful season, so it is hard to cast aspersions, or blame anyone in particular for our sudden collapse. But hey what the heck? Salif Diao’s form has been woeful since he returned to City & results when he has started games have reflected this. In contrast, games Delap has started have ended well for the Potters, & it’s not purely because of his dangerous throws (though they do help!). What stands out most in his absence is the extra time & space given to our opposition. This indicates the shift he puts in & workrate, which at present, in this department Diao is found wanting. At QPR, minus Delap, we looked exposed, as Diao failed to close down their midfielders; & two goals were a direct result of this. The third was obviously down to Griffin’s scandalous dismissal as they took advantage of their extra man. Despite Griffin being a euphemism for ‘Premier League Reject’, he is a vital component of this Stoke team, & when he is not palying, he is sorely missed.

Admittedly, I was one who called for Daio’s inclusion at QPR, but I now realise this was just wishful thinking. And with Whelan returning from suspension against Watford, he surely has to come in alongside Rory.

Let me bore you with the statistics. We’ve scored 61 goals in games that Delap has appeared in & conceded just 49. We’ve scored 12 goals Diao has appeared in & conceded 15. For minutes they have been on the field we’ve conceded an average of 0.7 goals per game that Delap has been involved in; comparing to 2.3 goals per game for games involving Diao, & we have to remember Delap has been involved in the majority of games until recently. Make of these stats what you will, but IMO Rory Delap is a major factor in our success & without him we look far more vulnerable. Bear in mind that both played together at Norwich & played well, but it wasn’t until Diao left the field that we went on to score. 

Watching Liverpool last Tuesday (with the Stoke commentary blaring through my PC speakers) I drew huge encouragement from the Reds performance, which pervaded from their miraculous turnaround of late. Yes, they may well only finish fourth in the PL, remain a rasher short of the full fry-up, but victory in Europe is far from beyond the realm of possibility; & their performances since the owners/manager confrontation have improved enormously. Likewise, Stoke seem to have turned things around on Tuesday night after seemingly losing their way in their bid for automatic promotion.

Two weekends ago it was an altogether different story, as I enjoyed a deserved break in wonderful Killarney (Co. Kerry). And it went something a little like this…
(This is my attempt at a blog for those of you who are interested. Those who are not please feel free to skip the italics & move onto rest of article) 

The road to Killarney was a treacherous one, insinuating caution up ahead. The wind whistled hostilely, the rain blew boisterously on the wind, as I left the sharp rocky undulations of Galway in the West, for the green, luscious & rolling hills of Kerry in the South. However, as I revelled in the charms of the place they call ‘The Kingdom’, I couldn’t help but think – not only about Stoke’s game on Sunday – but that it was well worth the journey. For Stoke it was a different story.

Killarney itself - sleepy by day yet a bastion of activity in the evening - was both warmly friendly & infectiously relaxed. The surrounding landscapes of Kerry were nothing short of breathtaking; & the dreamy green meadows, grandiose mountains, calm soothing lakes & picturesque waterfalls, made for a most memorable weekend. I even had the novelty of visiting one of the world’s most spectacular golf courses, coincidently sharing its name with my surname (now that’s identity for you?).

It was the journey back however, which stands out most for me, as I desperately searched for a venue to witness Stoke’s televised trip South against QPR.

With Liverpool playing at a similar time on Setanta, especially considering their huge popularity in Ireland, my chances of finding a pub playing the Stoke game were slim to none at all. So, when I stumbled upon The Queens Hotel, in the historical town of Ennis (Co. Clare) whom – in having the benefit of two separate systems - agreed to put the game on a small screen in the corner, I was obviously delighted. Randomly this “delightful” establishment, featured in James Joyce’s masterpiece ‘Ulysses’. However, it was the maelstrom created by the abnormality of these two particular games being played simultaneously, which made for an altogether surreal & testing scenario.

For those of you who don’t know by now, I am also a massive Liverpool supporter. This affection owes much to the three enjoyable years I spent on Merseyside, & the eternal bond I will forever hold with Scousers. Nevertheless, however dilettante my support of Stoke City has been over the years, & pleasure Liverpool have given me, I have always stressed, if I had to choose, then Stoke City would undoubtedly come first. On mothering Sunday though, my allegiances & integrity were well & truly tested.            

It would turn out to be an afternoon of bittersweet emotion. Afraid the game may be switched-over, I watched unobtrusively in the corner, sound turned off, as the Liverpool-Bolton match blared out from the big screen. Determined not to let the Liverpool match distract me - despite Stoke’s 3-0 capitulation & the sheer noise levels of Liverpool’s brogue relations - I kept my eyes firmly on the Stoke match until the final whistle. In doing so, I proved to myself (if to no one else) that it is the Stoke fraternity where my heart truly belongs, & ultimately whose promotion to the PL would mean that much more to me. The road from Killarney was not a conversion as such, more like a strengthening of a faith that needed confirming. THE END

The clash of the Stoke & Liverpool matches that Sunday resulted in galvanising my fraternity for the team I have supported since childhood, & may well have cured a very mild identity crisis. It has been a similar situation for Rafa at Liverpool. Benitez, judiciously it now seems, decided to test the metal of Liverpool’s Yankee owners, calling their bluff to see how serious they were about Liverpool FC. It seemed risky at the time, but Benitez knew he had the backing of the fans as a safety net, & in-turn he received the assurances he was looking for. Moreover, His team look stronger as a consequence of this conflict & he too looks to be in a much stronger position, despite his many doubters outside the club. Deep down, I - like Benitez - knew the loyalty was always there; it just needed to be tested to confirm what I had always suspected.

So, I am hoping both clubs will put their indignations behind them & the fortitude displayed of late continues to shine until the end of the season. I have been mightily impressed by the resolve of both Benitez & Pulis this season, especially the way they are not afraid to make changes when things are simply not working. Pragmatic as Pulis is; He like Benitez has a ruthless streak, & IMO this is required for the current circumstances at Stoke. Pulis surprised many when he stuck with Sidibe at Norwich in favour of top scorer Ricardo Fuller. But while this decision raised many eyebrows, it came off for our Tone, as Sidibe grabbed the winner. As I mentioned earlier, Sidibe works his socks off, & this is a huge asset away from home. Fuller, despite his goal threat, is an individual & can at times go missing &  appear lazy. Furthermore, Pulis has shown his strength in the loan market again, acquiring the services of Chris Riggott from Derby, who has steadied our recently shaky defence. Ryan Shawcross, for all his potential, is still only young remember, & although he has been a colossus this season, it was right he was dropped after QPR. And didn’t this decision pay dividends?

Nevertheless, I feel Pulis has to delve into the transfer market one last time if we are to achieve promotion. A catalyst in attack is needed to get us across the finish line, akin to Sheringham’s move to West Ham or (dare I say it?) Merson’s move to Portsmouth. There are rumours of Nugent coming & he certainly fits this criteria. However, IMHO I would opt for more experience in our current situation (viz. Brian McBride or Jason Roberts). But I suppose Jay Bothroyd will just have to make-do!
 
Tomorrows game at Watford will provide our biggest test yet - & of course is the quintessential 6-pointer. But if Whelan comes in alongside Delap in midfield & Riggott continues his impressive contribution to the cause, I have every confidence it’s a game we can overcome. And wouldn’t it be great if Liverpool triumphed in Europe again, wiping the smug smiles off the faces of first Arsenal, then Chelsea & possibly United in the final. But, regardless of the events of the close season, nothing will ever change the way I feel about Stoke City, successful in their quest or not. But, wouldn’t it be the proudest moment of a whole new generation of Stokies, if we were to reach the Promised Land? And my ties with Liverpool FC would be finally severed. (Everybody!) I’m City till I die…

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It was the moment we had all been waiting for. And much more besides. Stoke City took on Preston at Deepdale on Tuesday night, in what was the 101st meeting between two of England’s most prestigious clubs. It was league leaders against a club fighting for survival, old masters versus –hopefully - the new. It was a blustery evening in the northwest, on a heavily waterlogged pitch & a typically open night in the Championship.

And on such an emotionally-charged occasion, it was the youngest referee in the league who took charge of the game (if that’s what you call it), a mere pup at the tender age of 22. This was the Championship & this was of course Stoke City.

But, despite this being an evening of bitter disappointment, when inexperience cost Stoke City dearly, I refuse to dwell on the negatives. And in a game which could quite easily ended 5-3 to the Potters, I am determined to remain objective. This after-all was just another ordinary night in the Championship & hopefully just one more lesson learned in complacency. And oddly enough, just what the manager had warned his team about prior to the Preston match.

In the pre-match build-up, with Stoke receiving some unfamiliar - & possibly unwanted – media attention, Pulis’ perfect analogy revealed to journo’s the competitive nature of this division. A typically down-to-earth Tone, told of how his team knew the dangers of their position, & if his team didn’t continue to fire on all cylinders, then their pants would be duly pulled & their arses unceremoniously reddened (or words to that effect). Needless to say, his team, not for the want of trying, were slightly off their A-games at Deepdale & as a result a newly expectant crowd went back to Stoke extremely disappointed.

The game for me went something a little like this…

Rushing back from work, I was desperate to purchase something, apart from ale, that would get me in the mood for the 12th from last game of the season. I decided, as I was not at the match, in Ireland even, I would try to recreate the conditions as though I were actually there - a sort of antidote for my recent bout of home-sickness. Of course, the friendly looking young girl behind the bakery counter looked at me quizzically when I asked her for a savoury meat & potato pie, so I decided to refrain from asking my 2nd question of “got any Wrights?”(Realising I was clutching at straws with this one!). I left dejected, but not defeated.

Undeterred, I stopped to get steak mince from the butchers & grabbed some spuds from the Super Valu. Yes, I would have a bash myself. I had to be quick though; it was 5.30pm & the match kicked-off in a little over 2 hours. Once home, I diligently cracked on with my pie-making. After much fortitude & persistence, I scrupulously glazed a wholesome looking pie with egg yolk & whacked it in a hot oven. Job done. Or so I thought.

Now sweating profusely, I switched on my PC & Sky Sports for the build-up, where Stoke were receiving some uncharted media attention. We were the league leaders & with our rivals not in action until the weekend, this was an opportunity for us to move four points clear of the pack, so the interest was fully justified. Sky Sports news flashes & radio Stoke (via the internet) provided my usual vantage; headphones on, like an old man with his wireless, I listened on intently…

The game kicked-off & I could hear a buoyant travelling support in the background. I went through the usual list emotions: “why aren’t I there”, “I’m missing out again” & “I know we can do this”. After a bright start, we were immediately put on the back foot, as Preston showed us their credentials. I didn’t expect this to be an easy game - despite their precarious league position -after experiencing some tough battles with Preston in recent years (most memorably when they beat us 4-3 at the start of season 02/03 - with none other than Cresswell scoring the winner in injury-time for the North-Enders). Moreover, despite being in the relegation zone, they’d recorded some pretty impressive results this season, including; homes wins against Watford (& a recent draw away) & Brazil (aka West Brom), & also performed an FA Cup demo-job on Championship bound Derby. They are indeed a team who deserved respect & we were duly obliging…             

The crowd continued to show their support & we heard our first (impressive) rendition of ‘Delilah’. The atmosphere in those early stages, I have to say, sounded electric & I dearly wished I was there in person soaking up the atmosphere. They responded with an ‘olé olé olé olé’ of their own after doing well to retain possession. Tony Gayle - the Sky correspondent for this game - was making long ball jibes all-night long (& will always find an ally in Paul Merson – who bizarrely has an axe to grind with Stoke) & suggested Preston wanted it far more. I begged to differ. The ex-pro (in case you weren’t aware) would later wind-me-up further when accusing Lawrence of “over-playing it” with ‘that’ chance, making the wise crack: “you won’t hear that said about Stoke too often” (very original!). I can now see why he writes for The Sun… 

And so, when they took a seemingly deserved lead, everyone at Sky saw it coming. I shrugged it off nonplussed, with thoughts of Scunthorpe an overriding factor for my continued optimism. Besides, maybe it was what the game needed & more importantly give Stoke the proverbial kick up the backside. How wrong I was…

10 short minutes later (me, momentarily soothed by hearing the drawled-out monosyllables of my beloved home-town accent) & it was 2-0 & my confidence came crashing down to earth with a thud. It was the same scorer, another free-kick, & more importantly young Shawcross who was again at fault for their goal. With the poignancy of the “Ell feel that, I can tell ya” comment resounding painstakingly through my earphones, I irrationally blamed the commentator for the curse he’d placed on our team. Regaining my composure, albeit fearing this was going to be one of those nights, I said to myself: “one goal & we’re back in it”. These sentiments lasted until 10 minutes from the end; when I decided after a barrage of chances, a couple of injury scares & bans to key players, my fears had been fully realised. I became engulfed by the fowl stench of defeat & it wasn’t the only thing I could smell. Caught-up in the melodrama, I had completely forgotten about my bleedin’ pie!  My beautiful pie was burnt beyond recognition & capped what turned out to be a miserable evening.

I quickly snapped out of my depression as I regained some much needed perspective. We can take major consolation in the manner of this defeat & solace in the fact we still sit proudly at the top of the table. And in the Championship, the points are certainly worth more than the games in hand. Furthermore, an away tie at a club fighting for their lives, on a murderous night in the northwest, was never going to be easy.

This crushing defeat didn’t exactly have a silver-lining per se, but in the grand scheme of things it could well prove to be a blessing in disguise. I would much prefer to learn a lesson like this now, rather than in the last couple of games of the season when it is much too late to put things right. I only hope this was a passing shower, that we recover quickly & the sun is shining on Stoke City in Shepherds Bush on Sunday. 

In hindsight, this was an evening to forget about & it is only how we react to it that matters most. If we respond to it like we did to the defeat away to Charlton, then it may well have done us a favour. If we let it affect our confidence, then it could harm the rest of our campaign. I sense it won’t trouble us too much & our bellicose spirit – which we’ve shown in the past - will be our redemption once again.

Nevertheless, it’s important we learn form this & we learn our lesson quickly. In this division, resting on one’s laurels is not an option & Pulis has to find a solution to our wayward finishing & nervous defence, if we are to achieve promotion. Last season Sunderland persistently added to their squad right until the end, adding to areas where they needed to improve. The signing of Stern John added fresh impetuous to their attack & he in-turn added some vital goals in their run-in. Despite Sidibe playing a pivotal role in our success this term & him being an un-sung hero of this team (a concept which a Guardian journo failed to grasp in midweek), IMO we do need more variation to our play, & more importantly, another goalscorer to come in alongside Fuller. We have to keep improving & keep progressing, or else, as Bob Dylan once put it – we will certainly start to sink like a stone.        

IMHO, tough games at Deepdale should be taken with more caution & Diao possibly should have started the match. A 0-0 draw in the circumstances would have sufficed. But then again, Diao has struggled with fitness of late & his combative spirit has waned somewhat from last season. I agreed totally with TP’s judicious decision to leave Salif out in the last few matches, but at QPR on Sunday; it is time he is reinstalled in the Stoke City midfield & we call upon his vast experience in these testing circumstances.

In summery, the Preston match was much like my pie fiasco. I don’t mean Stoke resemble a burnt-out mess, full of spuds & mince, on the crust of failure, although I have met a few dubious characters from the Potteries in my time. Rather, despite the effort & application I put into my pie-making, it just wasn’t meant to be. My girlfriend has warned me not to try it again, in fear ill bugger et up once more, but I most certainly will; knowing that if I just adjust the temperature & get my timing a little better, I’ll make a success of it next time around. Similarly, if Stoke learn from what went wrong at Preston, then they still have a great chance of promotion. I would’ve been more worried if Stoke didn’t make the chances on Tuesday, but in truth, we could’ve easily won the game 5-3 with the chances (& penalty shout) we created.

In response to my last article on Stoke, a confused Sunderland fan (missing my point completely) wrote in angrily to me, saying that if we go up then we too will have glory-hunters latching onto us. For the record I was only suggesting Sunderland had gained a huge Irish following since the appointment of Keane & his subsequent Irish recruitment policy. But, if what he was suggesting comes true, then I wouldn’t bemoan the fact & will except our fate willingly.

I’m off to Killarney (Co. Kerry) this weekend & I am certainly looking forward to seeing ‘the Kingdom’ and the famous ‘Ring of Kerry’. But mostly, I can’t wait to see Stoke City’s long overdue match shown on Sky Sports this Sunday. And if I can recruit, round-up, or muster any kind of support for the mighty Potters, then I will do so with pride & honour. We’re still the underdogs I know, nethertheless, despite our many doubters after Tuesday, I am still hopeful we’ll bounce back even stronger at QPR & I am sure we’ll continue to add to our ever-growing support. Fingers crossed.

Remember to join me again & ill let you know how I got on in Kerry….

These are intriguing times in football. Already in 2008; there has been the return of ‘King Kev’ - to the delight of the masses on Tyneside (and rightfully predicted by your humble narrator), an Italian taking charge of England, & another much older & wiser (say the Irish) one taking charge of Ireland (in what has surely been the longest appointment process of all-time), they even planned to play the PL abroad – with an absurd ‘39th game proposal’. There is also Keano’s Irish revolution happening up at Sunderland, who incidentally, have become embroiled in one of the most exciting relegation battles in PL history. But for me, the most invigorating story in football at present is the rise of my beloved Stoke City to the summit of the Championship; whom after years of suffering & degradation find themselves on the verge of top flight football once again. And I have never been more excited.

These are also significant times for The English Football Post. Soon, you will be able to leave your own post, similar to this one, as we attempt to revolutionize the way football is discussed on the internet & offer an alternative to the usual forum archetype. Register & you’ll also be able to share your views with a mass audience; post your own article; or even start your own blog.

Anyway, back to my story…

When I moved to Ireland, any hopes of watching my team regularly had relinquished; fearful I had condemned myself to a life of listening to Stoke City on the radio via the internet, but for an annual FA Cup exit that may or may not be televised. Or, I may be lucky enough to occasionally watch the mighty Potters live on Sky Sports in the back room of a deserted Irish pub, as I listlessly attempted to explain to a polite-but-uninterested fella, where exactly Stoke-on-Trent is (closer to Manchester than Birmingham), who indeed comes from there (the Captain of the Titanic), & how important the Potteries used to be (pre-Thatcher). And this of course, would be on condition no Rugby or Gaelic matches - with any whiff of significance – were not on another channel; or that SUNDERLAND were not on Setanta, in which case, I’d have to indiscreetly & shamelessly watch the game in the stink of the bookies.

It seemed I had incarcerated myself to a life of torment. Or so I thought…

You see, after a 5th straight win against Ipswich yesterday, Stoke sit proudly at the summit of the Championship, & I would be lying if I said I am not slightly hopeful about our very realistic chances of promotion. My ardour, is echoed I am sure, by my fellow long suffering Stokies, & we could well be watching our team regularly on Sky Sports, Sentanta, ‘MotD’ & ‘The Premiership’ (its Irish equivalent) next season. And Potter’s fires will be well & truly reignited.

IMO Stoke are the Sunderland of the Championship this season; minus the Irish bandwagon – those which mysteriously came out of the woodwork last season, swearing blind they had followed the Black Cats since the days of Gabbiadini (classy goalscorer from 80’s & early 90’s) & the legend that was John Byrne (not so great goal-getter with 22 Caps for Eire). Stoke do not just adopt a similar style of football as Sunderland, possess their never-say-die spirit, or simply share the same workmanlike qualities as the Wear-siders; Stoke embody a je ne sais quoi, reminiscent of Roy Keane’s team last term, which ultimately won them promotion.

But the correlation between the two northern cities don’t stop there, & the similarities between the two clubs, dare I say it, are there in red & white.

Not only are these two heavily industrial cities of similar size & stature, but the working-class inhabitants are of corresponding nature also. And despite Sunderland being far more successful in the first half of last century, many parallels can be made in both club’s illustrious histories. Those amongst you who know your history will be aware that Stoke City are the 2nd oldest football club in the world, & inaugural members of the football league. But in that first season, unable to compete with likes of Preston, Burnley & Blackburn, Stoke finished bottom of the table & were controversially voted out of the top division. Their replacement, yes you guessed it, were Sunderland AFC. And to add insult to injury, Sunderland – the first club outside the midland/northwest region to compete in the football league – played in the same red & white strips famed by the Potters. The archetypes don’t stop there. 
                              

Some hundred years later & Stoke City were relegated from the top division in 1984/5 with a record lowest points tally. Some 20 years later, & who else but Sunderland were relegated with fewer. And finally, if it wasn’t enough that the old Roker Park looked suspiciously identical to Stoke’s famous Victoria Ground, the Black Cats new stadium - albeit with their corners filled-in thus accounting for an extra 20,000 capacity – is a carbon copy of the Britannia Stadium, & both opened in Aug 1997. It’s no great surprise then that ‘the Mackems’ are beginning to get up my nose.

Sunderland’s renaissance has been well-documented; I only hope the coincidences continue.

The excitement of transfer deadline day, matched any I’d experienced & took me back to days of page 302 on Ceefax. Whilst most, tuned into Sky Sports news to see if the Defoe/Benjani transfer had gone through, I anxiously sought confirmation that Glenn Whelan had become a Stoke City player. With his move from Sheff Wed not confirmed until 20 after midnight, with not even a mention by newsreaders, I retired to my bed with my renewed optimism fully justified. This signing, together with the £2.2million spent on 2 free-scoring centre-backs represented a massive change at Stoke City; whom hitherto, had always been a selling club. I wouldn’t go as far in saying that the Whelan transfer will be the catalyst in Stoke’s promotion, but it is certainly an extremely positive sign for a club used to letting go players with even an iota of potential. (Garth Crooks, Paul Bracewell, Adrian ‘inchie’ Heath, Peter Beagrie, Steve Bould, Lee Dixon, Mark Stein & Mike Sheron to name just a few)

At a club, where over the years, the fans had lost all confidence in the board (& at times the feeling  has been mutual) the Glenn Whelan signing, arguably the most promising midfielder outside the PL, for a meagre £500,000, is a massive coup for Stoke City & a gigantic step in the right direction. He’s young, gifted & Irish; I cannot believe Roy Keane & ‘Big Bird’ didn’t come sniffing.

But it’s two other Irish midfielders, whom Keane atypically decided to let go, that have been the biggest factor in Stoke’s remarkable run of form. Lawrence (£500,000 & scored 13 goals this season) & Delap (free & player of the season IMHO) have been Stoke’s two outstanding performers this season & a clear indication of Tone’s (as he’s affectionately known on the Potteries) shrewdness in the transfer market. If Stoke do get promoted, Stokies will be eternally grateful to Keane for gifting them with these two gemstones.

While we’re on the subject, & taking nothing away from Keane’s achievements at Sunderland; his dealings in the transfer market at times have been, at the very least, contentious. Tony Pulis, on the other hand has an impeccable record, & he deserves all the kudos that will inevitably be thrown his way. Previously known as the ‘Loan Ranger’, Tone has finally been granted a modest transfer kitty by friend & chairman Peter Coates(Bet365), & despite spending a record breaking £3.5million on players this season, the money he has recouped on sales such as Danny Higginbottom (£2.5mill to Sunderland – who else!) means he’s still £370,000 in the green. Furthermore, in his last tenure as Stoke manager, Pulis managed to make profits of £1.15million. No wonder himself & the chairman are such good friends. Keane for the record is £41.42million (& people give Benitez stick!) in the red in just 2 seasons at Sunderland, & I am not in the least bit surprised himself & big Quinny don’t get along.

Pulis, is not quite in the Wenger mould, nevertheless, Tone is the quintessential modern day manager, who understands the realities of running a club such as Stoke City. Whilst Sunderland’s return to top flight was quick-fix, tempestuous & dramatic, Stoke’s revival has been more steady & pragmatic. His team reminds me a lot of Tony Waddington’s (Stoke legend) teams of the seventies. He too, assembled a team of strays, cast-offs, past-its & also-rans, & mixed them with young talent (like Pejic & Hudson), & his strategies earned him huge success (winning the league cup in 1972). Tone’s side may well be a little more workmanlike than they were in the ‘Waddo Years’, owing much to his military background, but by incorporating flair players into his team such as Fuller & Lawrence, Pulis, like Waddington, has achieved a similar balance; & this has been key to the club’s recent success.

In short, on deadline day Stoke signed a young promising Irishman, wouldn’t it be ironic if he, along with 2 other Irishmen whom Keane cast aside, were the reasons behind Stoke City’s promotion. And wouldn’t it be poetic justice if it was Sunderland we replaced & this time it was they who were relegated? This is in no way any form of schadenfreude, it’s more like retribution, albeit after waiting 128 years for it to be exacted.

Keane, more than anybody, knows that success is born from adversity, & it’s for this reason, together with how much it means to the fans, that I am so desperate for Stoke to get promoted. And if my dreams are realised, we reach the PL, & we also sign a few more Irish players; I wonder if, whilst watching my beloved Stoke City live on Sky Sports in an Irish alehouse, I’ll be sitting alone? Or will I be joined by a bunch of brogues, all shouting for the mighty Potters?

It is a beautiful notion…              

January 2008 Awards

The EFP Player Of The Month

Emmanuel Adebayor (Arsenal)

Head and shoulders above everyone this month (well with the exception of Ronaldo), in more ways than one. We all heard the stories about him raising the string, well Adebayor has this month raised the bar in the perfect centre forward standards. 4 superbly headed goals this month highlighted not only his supreme physical prowess but also the Togolese’s near faultless technique & all round gamut of a world class striker. His rich vein of form & goals, which in January were spectacular, could propel Arsenal to title glory. To say Kenwyn Jones - who is turning into an established PL centre forward - is a ‘Poor Man’s Adebayor’ is paying the Sunderland player a huge compliment.

The EFP Young Player Of The Month

Daniel Sturridge (Man City)

Chosen ahead of Ronaldo (whom, despite his tender years can no longer be considered for this category) even though he has only played one & a half games for City & has only burst onto the scene in the last week. But, on account of the excitement generated by his 2 goals in 2 games record; not witnessed since the Theo Walcott hoax, Sturridge has to be awarded this award as a preparatory to stardom, if that’s where he’s heading? His finish at Sheff Utd suggests he has the ability & at Derby he showed all the predatory instincts & composure needed to become a top PL striker. He’s proven he can produce the goods at youth level & it looks like he’s taking to the senior team like a duck to water.

Avram Grant (Chelsea)

It is surely time Grant is given credit for what he is currently achieving at Chelsea, as he continues to shape this team, post-Mourinho. And it is Mourinho’s club record of 9 straight wins which Grant’s Chelsea have just equalled, as well as maintaining an ‘untouchable’ unbeaten home record, which has lasted an incredible 4 years. With the “sexy football” further away from the Bridge than Ruud Gullit is from a return to PL management, an abundance of 1-0 wins have not always been pretty, but Chelsea are the PL’s form team, & Avram should receive at least some recognition for this.

The EFP Goal Of The Month

“The match for them is a bit like people down south going to the theatre. They want to be entertained.”

(Kevin Keegan tells it like it is on Tyneside)

“They Don’t Care About Rafa
They Don’t Care About Fans
Liverpool Football Club
Is in the Wrong Hands”

(Liverpool fans let Americans know how they feel)

Sometimes, it is only when you move away that you find out most about the place you left behind. After years of scrutinizing, it is this very wonderful paradox which has allowed me to become closer to understanding the nature of English football & the fundamental reasons behind its success. Whether it is a new found maturity, a clarity born from escaping the social constraints of home, safe from hazardous distractions, or simply because I now have something to compare it to; I’m not entirely sure. Nevertheless, moving away has certainly opened my eyes to a concept that many managers have seemingly failed to grasp; that it is the fans who make football what it is, & any club chasing success has to consider them when building a successful team.

This was something Bill Shankly was only too aware of, & probably why he seemed light years ahead of his contemporaries. My sincere apologies for bringing it up again but his ‘more important than life or death’ analogy of the game showed more insight than it is ever given credit for. Yes, it is the most famous, overused (often misused) football clichés of them all, but read between the lines – which a country the size of America failed to do when Lennon made an equally profound observation about human behaviour - & Shankly was beautifully emphasizing how much football meant to the English people. He realised the importance of the people, the major role they played, & by understanding the social fabric of a club he was unlocking the door to success. After what he installed at Liverpool, it’s no surprise his legacy shines perpetually through the corridors at Anfield & his veracious philosophy of ‘placing his faith in the fans’ becomes more poignant by the day.

Two contrasting situations at Liverpool & Newcastle in recent weeks, indicates further the power of the fans & the importance of having their backing. There is no doubt in my mind that if Liverpool fans had turned against their manager – in what has been a turbulent few months at Anfield – then ‘the Americans’ would have given Rafa the boot faster than it took Hilary Clinton to turn on the crocodile tears when she was told it would help her election campaign. And Allardyce, if fans hadn’t become so disenchanted with the ‘Big Sham’ style of football, then Mike Ashley would have certainly waited until the end of the season before making any sort of decision. You see, football has never been about the players, the chairman – even if he has his own agenda - or even the manager. It is the happiness of the paying public that dictates the destiny of a club. And if a club loses sight of this, then failure is inevitable; & someone, usually the manager, has to pay the price. Of course in light of what happened to Phil O’Donnell, the irrelevance of football pales in significance, but where football is concerned, then it is the supporters who have to take precedence.

I have the utmost respect for the two sets of supporters, both for their impeccable football knowledge & their judicious demand for entertaining football – which many sets of supporters often lose sight of. I was shocked by Chelsea fan’s lack of protests after the departure of a man who had brought more success to their club than anyone in it’s history. Yes, there are wider issues to be considered but the fundamental purpose of our game is to be entertained & it is this factor which has worked in favour of Benitez at Liverpool & against Allardyce at Newcastle. It is testament to the people of the Northwest & Northeast whose primary loyalties lie with seeing good football. Despite Liverpool’s title aspirations becoming ruefully unstuck in December, fans are not fickle enough to forget everything Benitez has achieved at the club & how the cultured football which his sides adopt, is a far cry from the wing-backs of Souness & the defensive counter attacking of Houllier. It would be interesting to find out how the hoi polloi of the Toon – who have been used to watching flair players inspire their team to victory over the years (Keegan, Waddle, Mirandinha, Gazza, Asprilla, Ginola to name just a few) - viewed Big Sam’s appointment in the first place. It appears new chairman Mike Ashley was against it from the start & should maybe bear this in mind when he’s appointing a new man at Newcastle; & that fans are consulted.

Great managers have always taken the thoughts & feelings of the fans into careful consideration when building their teams, & the traits of people they are representing have reflected in the team’s style of football. Busby, Stein, Kendall & Clough – all from mining backgrounds - managed their clubs like factory owners in keeping with the working class northern & midland cities they represented. There is Ferguson also, who is made from similar stock; although his more cosmopolitan warehouse has moved with the times & won numerous prizes for innovation over the years. It was Shankly though whose philosophy first created a club for the people. Placing his faith in the supporters, he created an image of Liverpool FC in the likeness of it’s people. This laid the foundations for continued success & turned a struggling club into a bastion of invincibility. Liverpool of the seventies & eighties reflected the image of the city itself; hardworking, canny, passionate, resilient & creative, & his faith in the people paid dividends. Benitez has similar respect for the fans & their traditions, & that is why they’ll back him indomitably. Often it is a case of pleasing the masses & more often than not the public gets what the public wants.

Watching my home-town team Stoke City against the Barcodes, was an enlightening experience & strengthens my argument further by two apposing expectations of, once similar clubs, sets of supporters. It has been quite some time though since Stanley danced on the wing in the Potteries. And the glory days of Banks, Conroy & Hudson, when Stoke were a mainstay in England’s top division (& even League Cup winners in ‘72’) , have long since diminished. For the moment at least, the good people of the Potteries are content with watching their players running their bollocks off & expect nothing less than ‘getting stuck in’ as a requisite for playing for Stoke City. But Potters, once famed for their highly skilled craftsmanship, like Geordies, albeit rather more surreptitiously, long to see players of similar stature playing at the Britannia & witness football akin to the quality of the pots they once skillfully produced not all that long ago. Get to the Premier League & they just might!

But, despite the increased television coverage of football - & living in Ireland where amazingly there is more English football on TV than in England – the older I become the fussier I have become about the type of football I like to be watching. It is possible my newly found liberty is down to leaving the territory of teams I support, or that the organically neutral Irish are rubbing off; who knows? But if Liverpool fail to win the league – which looks increasingly likely - & Stoke don’t win the cup & get promoted, then I would like Arsenal to be triumphant, after their easy-on-the-eye football added me to their growing list of admirers. Their vibrant multi-cultural style, refreshingly youthful approach to football has been a joy to watch this season & thus paints an inviting picture of modern London. In fact, you could say they have put London on map in some respects. Well maybe not, but you see what I am getting at.

The point I’ve been trying to make is that football should be a matter of basic economics & comply with simple laws of supply & demand. Football in England is more popular than Jesus Christ, so it is only wise – regardless of the money factor – that fans are consulted & considered. And before Americans get their frilly knickers in a twist, start to burn effigies of my name, or go persecuting any more civilizations that differ from their own; this, for once, is not about you. My statement reflects trends in the culture of heathen England & is merely an observation. And Catholics, (of which I stand accused) alas! Pope Benedict XVI has recently acknowledged the increasing powerful role of football within society, suggesting that - despite its obvious exploitation & corruption – football has an important moral message about life to teach us all. Sounds familiar doesn’t it?

And for what it’s worth, I would like to see Shearer, with Keegan as a director of football, to return to the healm & lead the renaissance up at their beloved Newcastle. Toon, Toon, Black & White Army!

I awoke this morning overwhelmed by a familiar feeling of impending doom, thus igniting painful memories of a childhood flooded with extinguished dreams. For if England lose to Croatia – who have already qualified –tomorrow & subsequently fail to reach Euro 08, it will be the 2nd time in 13 years a nation of supposedly considerable football clout has been unable to qualify for a major tournament. Of course after Russia’s dramatic late defeat in Tel Aviv, England only need a draw at Wembley & should join a Croatian team, seemingly having nothing to play for, in the finals. But, despite qualification being in our own hands, I remain extremely pessimistic about the state of English football, deeply concerned by the lack of quality in our national team & continue to be uninspired by players this country seems to be producing. If we do qualify for Switzerland – I don’t fancy our chances.

England will go into the game without Rooney & Owen, & wont find it easy against a characteristically skilful & gifted Croatia. With memories of Rotterdam weighing heavy on the mind, it’s an all too familiar story & one, which, no matter what the outcome, will leave question marks hanging ominously over, not only the ability of the manager & the reasoning behind his appointment; but also, the calibre of players he’s had at his disposal.

On that fateful night in the Netherlands, I blamed Ronald Koeman, but most directed their anger at a hapless manager who ultimately paid the price defeat & duly sacked. In hindsight, those incredulous shortcomings marked the end of an era for me & death of a certain type of player, which hitherto had been commonplace in English football. My heroes of ‘86’ & ‘90’ were all but retired at this stage & were being replaced by such players of the Carlton Palmer, David Batty & Andy Sinton mould. It was the birth of a school of thought in this country that skill didn’t win you matches & flair, thereby, was no longer deemed necessary. At first this change in approach & a new ethos to ‘win at all costs’ worked perfectly & nearly paid immediate dividends in ‘Euro 96’ when football ‘almost’ came home. But this initial success was short lived & arguably we’ve not come anywhere near these standards since. If Taylor’s failings suggested an increasing vulnerability, then McClaren’s latest struggle indicates that once more we stand culpable of becoming victims of our own infallibility. And like Taylor, McClaren cannot be held fully accountable.

We’ve had enough of big strong centre backs & complete(?) midfielders, we need players with genuine skill & artistry, who can not only entertain but turn matches in a heartbeat with one moment of brilliance. It’s time for a shift in company policy & time we faced up to the reality that this so called golden generation are not so golden after all. As when you look at it – what the fuck have they won?

Thinking back to the joys of ‘Italia 90’ I drool with envy over both England & Ireland’s line-ups & the creativity we used to take for granted. Both teams possessed a wealth of talent & experience, oozing flair & fecundity. As a result both teams made it out alive from the group of death; with Jackie’s men ‘giving it a lash’ & partying their way to a creditable quarter-final, & Bobby Robson’s England a whisker away from reaching the final, after bowing out to West Germany on pens in the semis. But this didn’t tell the whole story. Gazza & England’s entertaining style captured the hearts of the world & had a nation – seemingly tired of a sport destroyed by hooliganism – sobbing to the Nessun Dorma & proudly ‘Singing For England’ once again. In 1990 fans sang loudly, wholeheartedly & it meant everything to us.

Today, players for some reason aren’t the same. No dribblers, no magic, no nothing, just static. In 1990, Lineker aside – who incidentally had other uses – players had the skill to turn & win us important matches. Whether it was a Waddle shuffle, a Beardsley shimmy or Gasciogne just being ‘Gazza’, those moments were worth 20 of a well-drilled Beckham set-piece, an over-rehearsed Joe Cole step-over or even for that matter, homo-erotically marvelling at the physic of a Micah Richards. And that’s not me by the way! Plus, players used to have personality. Despite Gerrard, Rooney & Terry displaying plenty of character on the pitch, off it, it’s another story. Their over-used media trained clichés & the laboriously annoying “erms” of Rooney are enough to turn even the most hardened supporter off the ‘beautiful’ game. Then there’s 2 Cole’s, Rio, Lamps & Gary Neville – enough said really. How I long for a Gazza “I’m off to get me suit Measured” rant, one more ‘stop-look-listen’ Keegan commercial, or even another Johnny Barnes Rap to awaken me from my ‘It’s a matter of life & death’ dull & deep slumber.      

Obviously it’s important that we win matches as success brings about much pride & happiness, but the need to be entertained is every bit just as important.

Although Lennon, Pennant, Wright-Phillips & most promisingly Ashley Young, all provide a glimmer of hope, our game is desperately in need of the artistry & invention made famous by the flare wearing mavericks of the late 60’s & 70’s. Pioneers such as Matthews, Finney & Law paved the way inspiring the likes of Best, Bowles, Osgood, Hudson & Marsh - who were to light up English football like never before. To watch these men perform was mesmerising & enchanting. And there has been no finer sight in football since, than George Best in full flight; rhythmically smooth & perfectly formed, all natural & flowing, like poetry in motion. My father used to say, “football isn’t what it used to be” & in many ways it certainly is not, but it’s his “money has ruined the game” chestnut that echoes more poignantly through my mind.

This ‘Golden Generation’ tag is a load of old poppycock & England’s struggle to qualify supports this very notion. They might be more disciplined, extremely richer, & even a lot fitter, but in no way are they in the same class as their forefathers & this will continue to be the case unless English football makes massive changes & attempts to get to the root of the problem. Although modern players possess many admirable qualities, which complemented by the sublime skills of ‘foreigners’ has brought English club football much success in recent years, flair has to be added to the equation. If only English players could emulate the skills they see each day in training. But this, in reality, is easier said than done & the missing ingredient has to be developed much earlier in a young footballer’s education.

Now many might think I’m being very cynical, so I’ll go & annoy those people more by suggesting it’s a bit like this with music. Many aspire to be famous, whether they’re manufactured or not & have little regard for producing something raw, unique & innovative. Bob Dylan even branded modern music as sounding atrocious with “no definition, no nothing” & that Cd’s have failed to capture an authentic sound. Lee Mavers from The La’s said something similar & if you compare a live version of his classic “feelin’” to it’s album track equivalent, then I think you’ll appreciate what he means.

I got chatting to this Cork man the other day who was heavily involved in the organising of an U-21 match between England & Ireland about a month ago. England brushed aside a much younger & inexperienced Irish team 3-0 & this bloke saw it as a clear indication of how the ‘foreign invasion’ in the Premier League is affecting Irish football. In the 80’s & 90’s young Irish players littered England’s top-flight first teams, yet in this game only one was a member of a Premier League squad & he couldn’t even get a game at a heavily Irish-favoured Sunderland. Now, in many he’s right of course, but it’s almost as bad for us English. Despite this victory, I fail to get too excited about the prospects of Noble, Milner & Lita. In my opinion the English league is over saturated with far too many foreigner’s who are inadvertently stifling the development of English & Irish players; who aren’t cost effective & who sadly no longer appear to be a requisite for success.

Both are in need of new infrastructure & possibly a new catalyst if past glories are to return. Ireland – who have some useful youngsters – are in desperate need of a man with the knowledge & experience of a Giles or a Brady with the youthful enthusiasm & man-management skills of say, Paul Jewell. If the latter took the job then there’s a chance with some support he could be a huge success. Whether he favours a return to club management, only Paul knows, but in my eyes it’s a win-win situation for him. England on the other hand will probably qualify, McClaren keep his job & things continue much in the same vein, meaning my anxieties will be fully justified.          

In a week which saw Stan ‘not the man’ Staunton surplus to requirements by the Republic, debates continue on whether or not they – or any other team – should go ‘foreign’ in their search for a new saviour; or remain stubbornly stagnant & continue to stick to their own. Judging by the current events at Man City & in light of my recent immigration to Ireland, I can certainly see the benefits of being an outsider, & the rewards in hiring a man who’s free from the shackles of an increasingly unappreciative crowd. As Irish pundits understandably focus on the negatives, from where I’m standing - if the FAI make the right choice – there is much reason for optimism.

Idealistically, an experienced & impassioned native would do nicely, but in reality O’Neil & Keane aside, there’s none capable of doing the job, as the Hiddink’s & Sven’s of this world continue to outperform our less tactically minded patrons, & goes some way to proving that keeping to what you know gets you absolutely nowhere.

Firstly, if we cast our minds back to the tail end of last season, Man City found themselves in a remarkably similar situation to the Irish. With fans feeling more despondent then ever before (that’s some depression by their standards) after witnessing a season of abominable horse shite, being led by the quintessential Englishman & arguably overly passionate - Stuart Pearce. Although ‘Psycho’ was an established international left-back, he’d had no real previous experience in management, did shockingly & was rightfully dismissed. Sound familiar?

He too received a handsome pay off.

It seems that a change in company policy proved just the tonic for City, & the detached stealth of Sven, albeit with the help of his Thai checkbook, is so far working perfectly. What I’m finding hard to fathom though, is what I discovered on my visit to Eastlands, on what proved an atypically sunny afternoon in Manchester. After pulling all the strings & pulverizing a Newcastle team distinctively lacking ideas & sophistication, an inspired Elano then blasted in a spectacular free kick from 30 yards. Derisive scoffs of “He’ll never make the winter(?)” from the bloke behind were followed by similar jibes by the City faithful, with their rendition of “Empty Seats…” aimed at those who were leaving early. I soon became aware (& respect to them) of the fact that no Geordie had budged, & ‘twas for the benefit of their own fans, whom - instead of basking in the glory – were leaving in their droves. This was The City of Manchester Stadium & this could only be City!

Despite yesterday’s harsh lesson at The Bridge, Sven won’t be feeling the pressure, neither the burden of responsibility that a Keegan-type might. Sven will coolly learn from this defeat & see where his side needs improving. In fairness, they look 3 players short of a side challenging for a place in the Champions League. But with more Thai money being made available in January – especially if Sven spends it as he did in the summer - subjects should stay seated for  what promises to be the most exciting season in the clubs Premier League history. Citizens should certainly be cherishing witnessing the finest football being played at City since the glory days of Mercer & Allison; & realise the enormity of what Sven & his team are currently achieving.

It makes me laugh when you consider who the FA chose to replace Sven, with a man supposedly their idea of a Lion-heart. No disrespect to Steve, but I’m sure ‘Psycho’ could’ve done better (& astonishingly he was a candidate), as I’ve met door-to-door salesmen who’ve possessed more genuine passion for their shitty tat they try to shift, than Steve – painfully dull - McClaren.

And so the search begins for the long suffering Irish. In the country boasting the birthplace of public lynching (In Galway, if rumours are to be believed) - whoever they choose - it’s important he receives a fair crack of the whip & the backing of the nation.

In my opinion, Ireland have to spend big (& they’re certainly not short of a few bob) & get the best manager available, which unfortunately means he shouldn’t be Irish. This may come as a blow to Eamonn Dunphy – who, like most of those morbid old bastards he sits beside on the RTE-Two - feels he’s in with a shout. Pissed wisdom one suspects, as ‘Dumphy’ couldn’t spot good football if it bit him on his wrinkly contentious arse.

As an Englishman now living in Ireland & a foreigner here for nearly 5 weeks, I’ve already started to realise this country’s vast wealth of beauty, beauty that only an outsider could possibly apprehend. Whilst being warned(flashed) by thoughtful onrushing motorists of Gardaí up ahead, being offered the tastiest triangular sarnies (known to man) during matches in my local pub, & being spoken to by passers by on the street may be commonplace in Ireland, from an outsider’s point of view this is something invigorating & unique. So too may it be difficult for natives to recognise the charm of being passed by a burly 30-something woman; power-walking her way to town, the sensuous smell of turf burning outside incredibly inviting boozers, or the majestic art of sleep-drinking – a skill I witnessed one man performing on my very first night out in Galway. And then there’s Barry’s Tea, Abrakebabra, Jonnies Onion Rings & Rock Shandy – all equally scrumptious & perfect examples of Ireland’s - say it like it is - approach to advertising.

Sometimes we all need an outside influence to remind us of what qualities we already possess, but cannot see. Someone who, as Mike Scott from The Waterboys once splendidly put it, see’s “The Whole of the Moon” and not merely the crescent. And the boon of recruiting a top foreign manager I feel can do exactly this.

Sven’s early success at City comes as no surprise to me, as his record in club management is as good as any one in European football. So fans of Manchester City should certainly be counting their blessings. And let us hope Ireland get their act together and appoint the right man; as lets face it, any tournament without them is a far duller one. If they can capture someone of similar stature & ability as Eriksson; someone who’s ice cold, cunning & (money?) driven, even if he does have a weakness for the ladies, then I’m sure they’ll be just fine. And I don’t mean a Catholic Priest, before anyone at the FAI gets any bright ideas. 

And so the moment had arrived. The last time – in a long time at least – I would experience watching my team Liverpool in a Manchester ale house. The last time I’d be forced to switch allegiances on grounds of personal safety; & hopefully, yet highly unlikely, the last time I’d have to endure the partisan presumptions from United fans.

For this weekend - after much contemplation - I’ve decided to leave sunny Manchester for the greener & ultimately safer pastures of Ireland; the land of the Gaelic Games, as the plot thickens & contradictions look set to continue.

Unable to resist slipping back into character & going against the grain one last time, I ordered a Guinness, grabbed a pew & watched on in wonderment as Liverpool took on Reading at the Madejski. It turned out to be one of the more memorable, most enjoyable games of the season & bizarrely responsible for rekindling my passion for Liverpool FC, my love of football & reaffirming my affections for Mancunians.

There will be many things I’ll miss about Manchester – or Chorlton to be precise – most notably: (& in no particular order) The Inn Plaice, Barbeque’s breakfast barms, the secret charms of the vibrant Beech Rd, & Oxfam’s bookshop – IMO, the pearl of Chorltania.

But most notably of all, I’ll miss the eye-opening & uniquely invigorating experience of being a Liverpool fan in Manchester. Don’t get me wrong, two years of celebrating Liverpool goals in silence, alone in piss-stenched toilet cubicles has certainly had its drawbacks. But the rewards will certainly drown out hours of uncomfortable lip-biting & all lingering smells I’d duly been subjected to. Reading Vs Liverpool was indeed a pleasant surprise. In a game holding no particular significance, I witnessed one of the finest all-round performances from a Red centre-forward for many a year. A vintage Owen or Fowler, or even Rush at his peak would’ve struggled to match the talented, all action display of our newest amigo Fernando Torres. Not only did he bag a hat-trick, but he also showed the kind of character & work-rate not normally associated with foreigners playing in England. For me - on Tuesday night - a new star was born on Merseyside.

Torres has the skill & pace of Henry, with the work-rate & desire of a Shearer; now that’s no small accolade. Since the demise of Fowler & once the false dawn created by ‘that’ Michael Owen wonder goal versus the Argies had subsided (I’ve since found Owen to be very one-dimensional), I’ve been searching for a new hero in a Liverpool shirt & in Fernando, I may just have found one. 

Prior to the Reading game I’d slumped into a mini-depression, in fear of another Houllier-esque performance & prepared myself for another season of painfully relinquished hope. In all honesty, I found the Birmingham & Portsmouth games possibly more frustrating than a trip to the Trafford Centre with the girlfriend. So in an end-to-end action packed match, the excitement was nothing if unexpected. For want of a better phrase: it was a game brimming with life & had me glued to my seat.

As I sat transfixed amongst the enemy, listening to the moans & dismissive rants of envious Mancs, I began to saver the moment, appreciating something I will miss enormously.

After a thoroughly entertaining first half, the game was in the balance. Torres was running Reading ragged, despite being battered all over the park & had just scored his first of three expertly taken goals. Steve Coppell’s men responded brilliantly though & equalised for the second time in the match. Amid murmurs of “Fergie should’ve signed him when he had the chance”, a man persistently asked for updates as he floated between bar & the outside smoking area. He then asked the bloke sitting beside me - who was deep in conversation about the importance of local rivers & ship canals in the economic growth of Manchester - if the match was in any way entertaining? The response he received was a classic & so typical of the now legendary cynical Mancunian humour: “Iv seen more life in Southern Cemetery lad” was His response. For all those not familiar with Southern Cemetery or Manc humour even, it’s a notoriously large graveyard situated in South Manchester, as referenced by The Smiths in their timeless & misspelt classic ‘Cemetry Gates’ & where Sir Matt Busby, among many, now rests.
 
To be honest though, after all my tribulations of watching Liverpool in Manchester, never had I witnessed exact hatred or outright nastiness towards their supposedly bitter rivals - Liverpool. Scathing attacks were never vicious & the taunting always in jest. It’s largely a friendly rivalry exaggerated through football & one that I’ll miss immensely when I’m gone.

And so I move on; to become an Englishman in Ireland, supporting a soccer team from England & worshiping a Spaniard who plays for Liverpool. But as well as declaring my love for Liverpool, I’ll now speak highly of similar folk, of harmonious pride & humour, with the loves, the hates and the passions just like mine. The people of Chorlton, the people of Manchester - good people, people I’ll miss immensely.